


Souls Intertwined

by megsblackfire



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Rejection, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-19 20:51:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9459962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megsblackfire/pseuds/megsblackfire
Summary: Words scrawled across the flesh are used to find one's soulmate. Hanzo never wanted a soulmate. He hates the idea and the very thought of being bound to another for all eternity. He has spent most of his life avoiding anyone that could say the hated words on his arm. He could not escape fate forever.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Before anyone freaks out, please note that I do not hate the soulmate universe. I love it! However, I am the sort of person that thinks about the negative aspects of such a universe. Namely, there's no freaking way everyone's all gungho about having a soulmate. We can't even all agree on what a good ice cream flavour is; you expect me to believe that everyone is just okay with having a soulmate? So here is my offering to show someone that DOES NOT WANT.

_His grandmother smiled as she held his arm and patted the newly formed words that were scrawled across the inside of his upper arm, down the inside of his elbow, and ending on the meat of his forearm. Her sweet brown eyes did little to comfort him as she shook her head in amusement. All the adults were amused with him today and he hated it._

_There was nothing to be amused about. Why were they amused because of the words on his arm? They were horrible! He couldn’t even read them to hide from whoever might say them to him. How could he stay safe if he couldn’t even read the words?_

_“It will be the happiest day of your life, my darling, when you hear your soulmate say these words,” she crooned as she patted the words written in another language. “They will burn red against your skin and it will be like the whole world has made itself right just for you. Yes, it will be the happiest day of your life, you’ll see.”_

Hanzo did not think his grandmother had been telling him the truth that day. Finding his soulmate was supposed to be better than graduating with top honours from university? Winning the gold medal in archery for his country? Finding that elusive plushie for Genji to finish off his collection and having his younger brother practically scream with delight for a whole hour because of how happy he was? No, his grandmother, and everyone else for that matter, were out of their damn minds. No soulmate could possibly top all the other happy memories he had, no matter how bittersweet some of them were now.

It was literally one person saying something completely random that the universe deemed important enough to scrawl across your skin. It was so ambiguous and stupid and who said your soulmate was a good person anyways? What if they were a toxic scumbag that abused you? What if they were a useless air-hog that did nothing but whine and complain all day about how unfair their life was while constantly doing nothing to change it? No, no soulmates were not worth anyone’s time and it would be nice if the universe could just fuck off.

“Reminiscing, brother?” Genji teased as they stepped into the medical bay.

“Hardly,” Hanzo snorted. “There is nothing sweet about the memories that come to me unbidden.”

Genji cocked his head to the side, but wisely remained silent. He knew how Hanzo felt about everything concerning soulmates and the obsession everyone had with finding their supposed “true love”. He didn’t share Hanzo’s disdain; he still believed in the nonsense they were spoonfed as children. The one thing that his brother held onto when he shed most of naivety and it had to be the stupidity of soulmates. He was still so damn hopeful and it made Hanzo feel sick.  

“Dr. Angela? Are you in?” Genji called out. “Hanzo’s here for his medical examination.”

A blonde head poked out from behind an office door. The woman looked too young to be the woman Genji spoke so highly of, but when she smiled and walked over, Hanzo could not argue that this had to be the woman that had saved his brother’s life. He swallowed thickly at the thought, trying his best not to flinch as her blue eyes turned to regard him. Genji might have missed the cold glare, but he did not.

Considering how he had almost killed his brother, he did not blame her for her hostility. Genji would not have been in good shape when he was brought into her medical facility in Japan. Dr. Angela had every reason to hold him in cold reproach until he proved himself otherwise. Hell, he still hadn’t forgiven himself for what he’d done to Genji; how could he expect anyone else to?

“Ah, Hanzo, you’re brother has told me so much about you,” she said pleasantly. “Come; we’ll get this all sorted out and then you can go have something to eat.”

“That sounds amicable,” Hanzo said as he followed her.

Genji shook his head, no doubt grinning behind his mask. Angela waved him onto a medical bed and started her examination. She paused when she reached his left arm, studying the tattoo and the painstakingly concealed words. She smiled sweetly up at him as she pressed her fingers against his elbow and he wanted nothing more than to gouge her eyes out. Every doctor insisted on giving him that exact same look and he hated it. The words were hidden for a reason! He didn’t _want_ them to be seen by anyone, especially not weak-minded fools that believed the bullshit about soulmates and true love.

“Still haven’t found them, huh?” she asked. “It’s okay; they’re still out there.”

“Your concern is unwarranted and unnecessary,” he growled. “I do not want to find them.”

She blinked at him in confusion but left the conversation where it was. Her comment left a sour taste in his mouth and he glared at the partition screen for the rest of the examination. He did as she commanded, but he would have just as happily jumped off the bed and stalked out. She finished checking the clasps on his prosthetic legs, gingerly probing the connecting wires before she pulled away with a satisfied nod.

“That should be all; you have a clean bill of health,” Angela said in an almost singsong voice. “You have taken very good care of yourself, Hanzo.”

Hanzo snorted as he got to his feet. He bowed his head to Angela, polite as ever even though he wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up beneath her feet and swallow her whole. He walked around the partition screen and headed to where his brother was talking with someone. Hanzo almost stopped walking in shock because _what the hell was this man wearing_?!

He looked like he had stepped out of some old American movie about their time in the desert region of the country. There was a Stetson hat on his head, a cigar; unlit or else Angela would have had his head mounted on the wall by now; held between his teeth, a red cloth tied around his neck that draped over one shoulder more than the other, a brown shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, jeans, and cowboy boots with spurs. What. The. Actual. Hell? How old was this man and who let him dress himself in the morning!?

Genji turned towards him and waved. “Ah, Hanzo! All done?”

Hanzo nodded, eyeing the newcomer wearily as the man’s brown eyes seemed to be trying to undress him where he stood. Did he have no shred of decency in his body? He didn’t remember any other American being this rude, especially when Hanzo could see them eyeing him like a fresh cut of meat. Genji gave the man a sharp jab in the ribs and waggled a finger at him.

“That’s not nice; stop ogling my brother,” he scolded. “Hanzo, this is Jesse McCree. Jesse, this is my brother, Hanzo.”

Jesse McCree grinned widely around his cigar and stepped forward, one gloved hand outstretched towards him. “Well, ain’t you as pretty as a picture?” he asked with an incredibly thick drawl.

Hanzo went rigid as the air left his lungs. Along his left arm, under the tattoo, the words that he had spent most of his life trying to hide burned. McCree stopped dead in his tracks and his eyes flicked down towards Hanzo’s arm. Genji let out a soft gasp and Hanzo let himself take one look at his arm. Under the coiling body of his dragon, the words were burning bright red, standing out on his flesh for everyone to see.

McCree’s breathing hitched and he looked at Hanzo expectantly. His dark brown eyes seemed to be shaking in his head, almost like he was waiting eagerly to hear what Hanzo was going to say in return.

Hanzo couldn’t breathe. He could already feel the bond starting to take root between them, twisting and coiling them into the worst form of imprisonment that Hanzo could ever think of. He didn’t want this. He NEVER wanted this.

He took a step back, lifting his left arm with his fingers curled into claws. He snarled at McCree, baring his fangs and loving the look of utter confusion on the man’s face. It would be the last thing the bastard ever saw.

“ _Ryuu ga waga teki—_!”

“Hanzo, _no_!” Genji shrieked.

His brother tackled him to the ground before he could finish summoning his dragons to tear McCree apart. They rolled on the ground, Hanzo snarling and shoving at Genji as McCree grabbed his shoulder and rubbed, looking between his hand and the two Shimada’s wrestling on the ground. Hanzo shoved his foot hard into Genji’s stomach, kicking his brother off of him and scrambling to his feet.

He bolted past McCree, fleeing out the medical bay doors as fast as he could. He didn’t hear anyone pursuing him, but he didn’t slow down. The Watchpoint was a maze, one that he swore looped back on itself too many times to count. It probably made infiltrating it a nightmare for enemy soldiers, but it also made it extremely frustrating to navigate when he needed to get out as fast as he could. He had to leave; he’d come back for his things when the coast was clear and no one was waiting for him anymore.

He slammed into a set of doors and stumbled out into the thunderstorm. Earlier, he had thought the rain and thunder was a pleasant change from the suffocating heat that had plagued him since leaving Hanamura. Now, it only served to symbolize his growing hatred and frustration.

Why had Genji stopped him? He knew how Hanzo felt about the bullshit surrounding soulmates. He knew that he swore to kill anyone that ever dared to make the words burn on him. Now he had been denied that pleasure and the one small respite from a lifetime of being caged. If they caught up with him, he would never be able to escape this horrible fate.

He snarled and looked down at the ugly words marring his beautiful tattoo. He clawed at them, snarling as his flesh refused to budge under his furious movements. He took two steps out into the storm, ready to climb to the highest point he could find and wait this stupidity out, but froze as someone shouted his name.

“Hanzo! Hanzo, stop!” Angela shouted as she, Genji, McCree, and someone in a white, blue, and red jacket rushed out after him. “You have to finish the bond! You’ll feel much better afterwards, I promise.”

Hanzo snarled at her, stumbling away as McCree advanced towards him. A sweet smile was playing across the bastard’s face, blinking rain and tears from his brown eyes. He was cooing at Hanzo, reaching for him with a mismatched set of hands. Hanzo scrambled out of reach, snarling at the man even as he felt the bond solidifying between them.

He had to stop it. He had to stop it, _now_. He would not be caged! He would not be bound to a stranger’s side and expected to love them simply because they were cursed soulmates!

He pivoted, pretended to slip, and felt McCree’s arms wrap around his waist. He let his weight pull McCree down, reaching under his obi as McCree stumbled to support him. The knife snicked out of its sheath, but a rumble of thunder overhead covered the sound. Hanzo turned and locked eyes with McCree, letting the bond snap furiously between them, wrapping and twisting between their hearts and minds. He felt the first surge of emotion from McCree, saw the look of wonder and joy fill the idiot’s face, and sent his own surge of hatred back.

He lunged with the knife, aiming for the man’s jugular. Confusion and fear flashed across McCree’s face as Hanzo’s fury slammed into him. A red gloved hand grabbed Hanzo’s wrist and wrenched the knife free before it could break the skin of McCree’s neck.

Hanzo shrieked in denial, staring at the white haired man as he pulled away, the knife held tightly in his gloved hand. He struggled in McCree’s arms, kicking and screaming his fury as hot tears rolled down his face.

“No! No, what have you done?!” he roared at the man. _“What have you done?!”_

The man glared at him through his visor before throwing the knife down to the mud. The blade sank with a soft _shlop_ into the water-logged earth. Hanzo felt bile roll up his throat and he kicked out at McCree again, struggling to get away from the arms that had turned into iron vices around him. He felt lips peppering his face and screamed, reaching up to claw at the man’s face.

“Don’t touch me!” he screamed. “Don’t you fucking touch me, you disgusting worm!”

McCree released him with a yelp, stumbling backwards into the mud. Hanzo bolted for the coast; he would not be imprisoned! If he could not kill McCree, then he would throw himself to the waves and let himself be smashed against the rocks. Death was a better mate than any mortal could hope to be. Strong arms wrapped around him and he was hauled backwards up against a wide chest. He shrieked and kicked, swearing and promising death to whoever it was that was holding him.

“I will not be imprisoned!” he snarled as tears continued burning their way down his face. “Do you hear me?! I WILL NOT BE IMPRISONED!”

“Shut your mouth,” a deep voice snarled in his ear. “Just shut your damn mouth, you fool. How do you think these words affect Jesse?”

“I don’t care how they affect him,” Hanzo snarled. “If he cared, he would drop dead and rid me of this nightmare!”

Over the bond, he felt a pulse of agony. He didn’t care; he didn’t even look at McCree. He struggled and screamed, flailing until he felt something jab into the flesh of his neck. Something hot raced through his veins before his vision began to cloud over. He shook his head, trying to clear the black spots, but found himself slouching in the strong grip. His head rolled to the side and his gaze settled on the agonized face of the walking cartoon character.

With one last snarl, Hanzo sank into darkness, wishing, praying, that this was just a terrible, terrible dream.


	2. Chapter 2

“He hates me.”

McCree stared at his hands, unable to look at Hanzo’s peaceful face as he slept on the medical bed. Genji was on Hanzo’s other side, one hand resting on his brother’s wrist and running soothing circles across the back of his hand. Genji wasn’t meeting his gaze either, his green visor downturned and dim.

“Oh, Jesse, I’m sure that’s not true,” Angela soothed as she sat down beside him. “Sometimes people have a hard time accepting who their soulmates are. I’m sure he’ll feel better once he’s had time to calm down.”

“You didn’t feel it, Ange,” McCree whispered as he looked his friend in the eye. “I gave him nothing but love and he sent me seething hatred before trying to slit my throat. The words I’ve been waiting all my life to hear would have summoned dragons to tear me to pieces if Genji hadn’t interfered. He wanted me dead, Angie.”

He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled the right shoulder down, revealing the glowing red kanji standing out on his shoulder. He had waited his whole life to learn what the foreign words meant and it shattered his heart to pieces to know that they were used to try to kill him. He had always done his best to keep the words hidden from others because it was none of their business what his words were, but when he showed Genji after Hanzo had bolted, the cybernetic ninja had only whispered that he was sorry.

“You aren’t the first one to be attacked by their soulmate,” Angela soothed. “It happens more than a few times.”

“You didn’t hear what he said in that storm,” McCree shook his head. “He hates me, Angela. He hates me and I haven’t fucking done anything to him!”

“It’s not you he hates,” Genji said softly. “Not you personally anyways.” He looked down at Hanzo and let out a long sigh. “He’s never wanted a soulmate.”

“Genji!” Angela scolded. “How can you say something like that?”

“He should know,” Genji snapped. “McCree deserves to know just how much shit he has to deal with. Hanzo’s going to torture him, Angela; he’s going to torture him and he’s going to enjoy every minute of it!”

“That doesn’t,” Angela shook her head.

“Hanzo never wanted a soulmate,” Genji repeated. “He’s always hated the idea. He couldn’t even be happy when my words appeared. He hates the idea of a soulmate, of having their words etched into your skin, and he hates the idea of a bond that binds you to a person for the rest of your life.”

“He tried to kill me,” McCree whispered. “Twice.”

Genji nodded his head sadly. “I’m sorry, McCree,” he sighed. “You don’t deserve this. I don’t know how he’s going to react when he wakes up, but I know it won’t be good.”

McCree looked down at his lap and tried to hold his tears back. He loved Hanzo from the second he’d laid eyes on him. He’d loved the elegant face and the confident walk that Hanzo had. He’d loved the adorable little ponytail and the fact that he had his whole left side hanging out of his shirt just begging to get shot. He loved his tattoo and his eyes and his mouth. To know that Hanzo hated him just because he was Hanzo’s soulmate without even getting to know him was the worst blow he had ever received.

“What do I do?” he whispered.

“He’ll change his mind,” Angela reassured him. “He’ll come around. There’s nothing more beautiful than finding your soulmate; he’ll see.”

A loud scoff snapped everyone’s attention to Hanzo. McCree felt his heart soar at the sight of the bitter brown eyes and the stern frown that dominated his mate’s lips. He wanted to cover Hanzo’s face with kisses and hide him from the world because it clearly didn’t want him to be happy. He instinctively reached for his mate’s hand, love pouring out over their bond.

Hanzo flinched away from him and pulled his lips back into a snarl. It wasn’t just anger in those brown eyes; there was fear. But why was Hanzo afraid of him? He would never hurt him.

“Do not touch me!” Hanzo snarled.

McCree stared at him. “But…I love you,” he whispered.

Hanzo let out a bark of laughter. “You do not know me,” he sneered. “You just believe whatever lies have been forced down your throat since you were old enough to speak.”

“Hanzo,” Genji scolded. “Don’t.”

“You would take his side,” Hanzo snarled. “You’re as brainwashed as the rest of them. Soulmates; what a pretty word for ‘prisoner’.”

“Hanzo,” Genji shook his head. “Please, just….”

“Calm down?” Hanzo demanded as he hauled himself into a sitting position to loom over Genji. “Or were you about to tell me to accept my fate like a good little boy?”

Genji got to his feet so that he could tower over Hanzo. “I know that you’re angry, brother,” he said. “But McCree does not deserve your ire. He is as blameless in this affair as you are. And I don’t appreciate you turning on me just because I think that it’s good that you have found your soulmate.”

Hanzo spat something in Japanese that McCree couldn’t follow before he tried to get to his feet. Angela shouted something and moved to push Hanzo back down. McCree hurried to help her, reaching for his mate.

“Don’t touch me!” Hanzo shouted as he tried to scramble away from McCree’s hands. “Get your filthy hands…!”

“That’s enough!” a voice roared out.

McCree and Genji flinched as Jack Morrison came storming over. Hanzo stared at him for a moment before he bristled.

“You!” he snarled as he tried to get to his feet. “You ruined…!”

“Shut up,” Jack snarled before he shoved Hanzo back down onto the bed and shoved a finger in his face. “I don’t give a fuck what you think of soulmates. The fact of the matter is that Jesse is your mate and the more you fight and snarl, the more damage you’re going to do to both of you. So swallow your pride, damn it.”

Hanzo glared up at Jack, baring his teeth. He looked ready to start a fight and all the consequences be damned. McCree knew that if Hanzo so much as threw a punch at Jack that his mate would be beaten bloody. Jack did not take prisoners anymore.

He took the chance and reached out, resting his gloved hand on Hanzo’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay,” he soothed as he sidestepped Angela and sat down beside his mate. “We can work this out, alright?”

Hanzo glared at him, but shivered under McCree’s hand. Encouraged, McCree shifted closer, cupping Hanzo’s face in his metal hand. A flicker of emotion passed through Hanzo’s dark eyes and he leaned microscopically into McCree’s palm. Heart beating with excitement, he leaned forward and kissed Hanzo’s lips, keeping it chaste.

“This changes nothing,” Hanzo growled against his mouth. He shivered before he pulled away, shaking his head. “You still know nothing about me. You are a stranger.”

“If you would stop treating him like one, he wouldn’t be,” Angela scolded. “He’s your soulmate, Hanzo.”

Hanzo tried to get to his feet. “You understand nothing, _doctor_ ,” he snarled. “I want to know where I will be staying so I may get some peace and quiet.”

“My room,” McCree got to his feet. “I can show you….”

“Just tell me the room number,” Hanzo snapped. “I have no more patience left for any of you, especially you, Jesse McCree.”

McCree winced at the tone before he leaned closer to whisper his passcode into his ear. He didn’t really need to; Jack and Angela could override any lock they wanted and Genji could ninja his way into the room if he wanted to. He really just wanted an excuse to be close to his mate. It took a lot of will power not to nuzzle Hanzo’s hair and breathe in his scent.

Hanzo snorted and left, shoulders hunched up near his ears. McCree watched him leave and let out a long sigh. This was not what he’d envisioned finding his soulmate would be like. He imagined warm kisses and cuddling and soft confessions of love. This was bitter and cold, like Hanzo thought he was the most disgusting creature in existence.

“He always wanted to be courted,” Genji said softly. “The fantasy stories he used to read were always about worlds where people didn’t have words on their skins and everyone had to woo their intendeds. He thought it was a much better system, letting people reject anyone they aren’t interested in.”

“Courting?” McCree asked.

“Look it up on the internet,” Genji sighed. “It’s complicated to explain.”

McCree smiled and nodded. Courting; maybe he should do that? Try to earn his affection in a different method considering the traditional means seemed to only make him angry? It was worth a shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can tell when I started writing this story because I still call Jesse "McCree".
> 
> It isn't going to get easier for them from here on out. Hanzo will fight him every step of the way. Because that's the sort of asshole Hanzo is at this point.


	3. Chapter 3

Hanzo glared at McCree before he rolled over on the bed. “Go away,” he growled.

His insides felt terrible and he just wanted to curl up and suffer alone. McCree, however, seemed to have other ideas. The massive cowboy settled down beside him, looping his arms slowly around his waist. His touch made Hanzo feel better immediately.

He hated it.

“Hanzo,” McCree sighed into his ear. “I’m trying my best here, darlin’. What more do you want from me?”

“I don’t want you,” Hanzo snapped.

He grabbed his chest and did his best not to scream. He closed his eyes, fighting back tears of frustration as McCree pushed his face into his neck. He whimpered softly, hugging Hanzo’s smaller body close to his chest.

“Darlin’,” he whined. “I love you.”

“You don’t know me,” Hanzo snapped. It wasn’t the first time he had said it in the past week. “You don’t know anything about me! How can you love someone that you don’t even know?”

McCree was silent before he pressed a kiss against Hanzo’s jaw. “You trained from a young age to be a weapon for the Shimada Clan,” he murmured. “You were an amazing swordsman, but you always preferred the bow. You found it better suited to your personality and trained in secret.”

“Shut up,” Hanzo whispered. He tried to cover his ears. “Stop it! Get out of my head!”

“Ain’t like I’m doing it on purpose, darlin’,” McCree hugged him tightly. “The memories just come to me. I see things through your eyes and…and I want you to be happy, Hanzo. I want to take every bad memory you have and kiss them away. I want to make better memories with you.”

“I block your memories!” Hanzo snarled. “You could be polite and do the same for me!”

“But I want to know about you, Hanzo,” McCree sighed. “I want to know everything. You’re my mate. I’ll love you until the day I die.”

“Keep up this behaviour and it will be sooner than you think!” Hanzo shouted.

“Hanzo,” McCree whined before their com-links went off.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Lena called. “Jack wants everyone to meet in the briefing room. Apparently his spy was able to drop us some information about a Talon operation in London.”

“We’ll be there,” McCree replied before hanging up both of their lines. “Come on; best see what we’ve got.”

Hanzo let himself be pulled to the edge of the bed where his prosthetics were waiting. He slapped McCree’s hands away as he tried to help, refusing to let the massive cowboy touch him at his most vulnerable points. He latched the legs onto the stumps below his knees, wincing as the nerve endings reattached to their cybernetic counterparts. He counted to five after he locked the legs into place before hauling himself to his feet. He stumbled a step or two; recalibrating his sense of balance with the metallic limbs was always tricky, especially if he wasn’t feeling good; but recovered before McCree had a chance to touch him.

He followed McCree to the briefing room, trying not to let himself enjoy the view of McCree’s shoulders. He wasn’t supposed to be liking this. He had spent his whole life hating everything about soulmates and the new form of imprisonment it represented; why was he now feeling so stupid over a complete stranger? There was nothing special about McCree. He was a big dumb idiot that didn’t deserve any of Hanzo’s affection.

He shook himself to dislodge the thoughts and stepped through the door. He dropped himself down in the seat beside Genji, ignoring the startled looks he got when he flat out ignored the fact that McCree had sat down closer to Jack at the head of the table. Whispers buzzed around the table and many faces gave him sympathetic smiles. Hanzo did his best not to snarl at them all; this was not some stupid lover’s spat! This was him pointedly telling McCree that he didn’t want anything to do with him! These people and their brainwashed beliefs were starting to piss him off.

He should have been used to it at this point, but it still surprised him how stupid people could be. Why were they so ready to swallow such idiocy? How many of them had mates to run off to when they could? Why would they leave them if they believed in this true love bullshit?

“Now that you’re all here,” Jack said before Hanzo had a chance to snarl anything, “let’s go over what we know.”

Jack walked them through a power point of information their agent had sent them. Hanzo listened to everything, eyes scanning the pictures carefully as he plotted his own path through the area. Jack was talking about objectives and how many men Talon could muster in the area before he ran his hand through his hair.

“Our agent will also need extracting,” he said carefully. “He believes that his position has been compromised. We don’t have time to sit around and wait; we need to get in, retrieve this payload, and pick up our agent before Talon attempts to eliminate them, or worse, reprogram them.”

He started naming off teams and looked directly at Hanzo. “Hanzo, you and McCree cover our flank.”

Hanzo kept his bristling to a minimum and inclined his head. He ignored McCree’s wide grin and looked back at the close up image of where Jack wanted them to provide coverfire. It would not be an issue for him to get up there; McCree would have to find a different route up. He was not helping the other man lug his fat ass up the side of a building.

“We leave in an hour; get your gear and meet in Hanger 3,” Jack snorted before he started shutting the projector down.

Hanzo rose and turned to leave, but someone grabbed his arm. He rounded on Lena, baring his teeth at her sympathetic smile. Why did everyone insist on grabbing him? He did not like being manhandled.

“Hey, I know that McCree can be hard to work with but don’t stay mad at him, okay love?” she said.

“Do not stick your nose where it does not belong, Oxton,” Hanzo growled as he pulled his arm free. “Our situation is none of your concern.”

“Hanzo,” Lena blinked in surprise.

Hanzo growled again before he turned and stalked off through the door. He knew McCree was chasing after him, but he elected to ignore the oaf. He shoved the emotions bubbling through their bond down as hard as he could, struggling to keep McCree’s emotions separate from his. It was a colossal effort and he gave up before he even made it to the room.

“Must you be so loud?” he snapped as he stormed through the door and started getting changed out of his civilian clothes.

“Lena didn’t mean anything by it,” McCree soothed. “They don’t….”

“None of them understand,” Hanzo spun to face McCree. “I do not need their pity or their empathy. I want to be left alone. Coming here was the worst mistake I ever made.”

McCree winced at the implication Hanzo stuffed down the bond. He rubbed his neck, glancing at Hanzo with his sad puppy-dog eyes and Hanzo threw his arms in the air.

“You are insufferable!” he shouted. “Get your gear on before we make everyone else wait for your slow ass!”

McCree smiled and stepped forward, pressing his lips against Hanzo’s. “You’re cute when you’re angry,” he teased softly.

“Fuck you,” Hanzo snapped.

It wasn’t until he was tying his obi securely around his hips that he realized how much of a McCree-thing it was to tell his mate to “fuck off”. He tensed, feeling a wave of panic wash over him. McCree’s head snapped up from where he was pulling on his chaps and he shifted forward, reaching for Hanzo.

“Darlin’?” he asked gently. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Hanzo shook his head and carefully tucked his pant legs into the knee guards of his prosthetics. “It is nothing.”

“Something scared you,” McCree pressed as he took two steps towards him.

“I said it was nothing!” Hanzo spun around and backed away from McCree. “Why must you push?”

“Because I want to make sure you’re okay,” McCree snapped.

Hanzo almost staggered under the waves of emotions that crashed down on him from McCree’s side of the bond. He reached for something to steady himself and fell with a thud onto the bed. He wheezed, holding his chest as he was bombarded by McCree’s frustration, worry, and sickening love. He closed his eyes and covered his head, trying to shove the emotions away from him.

“Why do you have to reject me so much?” McCree whimpered. “I’m trying, darlin’, I really am. I’m giving you space when you need it and I’m trying to court you, just like you always wanted. Why aren’t I good enough for you?”

“Please,” Hanzo whispered. “Not now. Please.”

Just like that, the emotions were gone. He sucked in a breath, feeling his lungs expand painfully against his ribs. McCree’s face appeared in front of him, brown eyes filled with worry as he cupped Hanzo’s face in his hands. Hanzo leaned into the touch, hating himself for leading McCree on when he knew he could never love him but wanting to feel his reassuring touch none-the-less.

“We have to talk about this,” McCree whispered. “It’s killing me, darlin’.”

“We will,” Hanzo promised as he reached up to touch McCree’s face.

The jolt it sent through him almost had him reeling. McCree sagged into his hand, staring up at him as if he was the only thing in the universe that mattered. It made him feel sick to his stomach, but before he could pull away, McCree was kissing his palm, slowly making his way up his bare left arm. The touch of his lips were warm against his flesh, but cold shivers ran down his spine.

“McCree, stop,” Hanzo whispered as he tried to pull away. “Please, don’t!”

McCree paused, his lips pursed over the still red “picture” burned into Hanzo’s flesh. His brown eyes crinkled in confusion and Hanzo used that momentary lapse in awareness to slip away. He grabbed his bow and quiver, hoisting them up over his shoulder.

“I’ll meet you in the hanger,” he managed to stammer out before he bolted from the room.

Behind him, he could hear McCree’s confused stutter as he fled. The bond swelled for a moment before Hanzo stamped it down firmly and focused on getting to the hanger without getting lost. Giving himself a goal and no room for distraction helped calm his racing nerves.

He arrived in the hanger with a clearer head and was able to make his way through the throng of people that had decided to bunch up right in front of the door. A few people smiled at him and patted his shoulder as he passed, but he ignored them. Now was not the time to turn on his comrades. He would deal with their stupidity later.

“Gear goes over here,” Jack Morrison grunted as he hoisted his pulse rifle over his shoulder. “Where’s McCree?”

“Finishing getting dressed,” Hanzo said as he handed his bow and quiver over to the taller man. “He is incredibly slow.”

“Unfortunately,” Jack sighed as he carefully stowed Hanzo’s weapons away. “And…don’t feel like you have to sit next to McCree if you’re uncomfortable. I know everyone hasn’t shut up about where you sat during the briefing, but they really need to learn to keep their traps shut.” He glanced around the cargo hold and nodded. “Go take a seat if you want; we’ll be heading out in about ten minutes.”

Hanzo inclined his head and went to take a seat as far away from the door leading into the shuttle as possible. He sat down in what he hoped was a secluded corner, buckling himself in and doing his best to blend in with the shadows. He knew that it would not stop McCree from finding him, but he hoped that it would keep anyone else from trying to interact. He was not in the mood to deal with other people right now.

He closed his eyes and curled into himself a little as he heard everyone else start entering the shuttle. They settled down close to the doors, their voices bouncing around the cargo bay in a cacophony that made his eardrums ache. He reached up to rub at his temples and was almost relieved when a familiar weight settled down beside him.

“Little loud for ya?” McCree asked gently.

“A little,” Hanzo murmured.

McCree’s hand rested on his knee and squeezed gently. Hanzo glanced at him and watched him turn and whistle sharply.

“Hey! I get that some of y’all are half-deaf, but ya don’t gotta shout!” he snapped.

Everyone fell silent and, from what Hanzo could see around McCree’s chest, they were staring at him as if he had grown a second head. Hanzo did his best not to smirk as McCree turned his attention back to him. He smiled kindly and Hanzo let himself enjoy the sight.

“Better?” he asked.

“Much,” Hanzo nodded his head. “Thank you.”

“No problem, darlin’,” McCree puffed his chest out proudly. “That’s what I’m here for.”

“To yell at your comrades to shut up?” Hanzo smirked.

“If it makes your life easier, yes,” McCree grinned down at him.

Hanzo shook his head as he settled back in his seat. He felt the shuttle’s engine rumble to life beneath his feet and then the soft jerk as it started rolling out of the hanger. He closed his eyes and prepared himself for the two hour flight to London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Hanzo, what are we going to do with you? Aside from love you and pat your head as you huff and insist that you don't like McCree.


	4. Chapter 4

“Left, left!” McCree shouted. “No! Other left!”

“Then it would be my right, McCree!” Hanzo snarled as he loosed a Scatter Arrow into the midst of a group of Talon agents.

The arrow slammed into the gut of one agent and then proceeded to ricochet along the ground to impale the other agents standing nearby. It was a brutal way to die, but one Hanzo thought was fitting for most groups of people. If you’re going to bunch up in the open, be prepared to die together.

“I forgot what the direction was called for a second! Doesn’t help that all I could think of was the damn Japanese word for it!” McCree snapped.

“You don’t speak Japanese!”

“No, but you do!”

“I thought I told you to stay out of my head!”

“It’s not like I’m doing it on purpose, darlin’!”

Hanzo snarled before he twisted and fired an arrow down into the skull of a Talon agent that had been trying to sneak up on Genji. His brother zipped past the dead man, kicking his way through another throng of people so that he could keep up with Reinhardt. Beside him, McCree fanned the hammer on his pistol before dropping down behind cover to reload.

“Hey, 76, you secure that payload yet?” McCree demanded.

“Working on it; keep those agents off our backs,” Jack shouted back. “Move east along the rooftops and stay out of sight.”

“Roger,” McCree nodded before he signalled for Hanzo to get moving.

Hanzo bolted along the roof, easily clearing the gap between two buildings. He paused at the edge, rolled his eyes, and twisted around to grab McCree’s hand as the idiot almost fell.

“You shouldn’t be following me if you can’t make a simple jump,” he snapped.

“Bossman said to stick with you, so I’m stickin’ with you,” McCree snorted. “‘Sides, wouldn’t have to worry about me falling if you stopped trying to be a parkour master.”

 Hanzo rolled his eyes before he resumed his sprint. He nocked an arrow as he ran and loosed it at a low wall. The sonar arrow revealed no one hiding inside the building and he gave the signal for Lena, Lucio, and Hana to continue on. He scanned the area, nocking another arrow as McCree stopped beside him.

They both felt a tremor in the air and sprang apart as black smoke lifted up out of the concrete. Hanzo stared at the being that materialized a few seconds later, fear gripping his gut as he stared at the bone-white owl mask. He took an uncertain step backwards as McCree swore. The figure looked between the two of them before it twisted and lunged for Hanzo.

Hanzo stumbled back, reaching beneath his obi for his dagger. His hand had barely closed around the hilt before clawed gloves wrapped around his throat. He was dragged backwards and slammed against the roof. He gagged as the air was knocked out of him, his eyes rolling up towards the mask as the figure loomed over him.

“Call Jack,” the figure growled down at him. “Stay where you are, McCree. This will only take a moment.”

“You bastard,” McCree started to snarl but the figure cut him off.

“Call Jack,” the figure repeated before he dragged Hanzo to his feet and hoisted him up against his chest to act as a shield. “Now.”

McCree snarled at the figure before he touched his comlink. “76, we have a problem,” he growled.

“What’s going on?” Jack demanded. “You’re supposed to be providing coverfire!”

“We got am-,” McCree started to say before the figure leaned in close to Hanzo’s left ear.

“ _Hola, mi corazón. ¿Cómo estás?_ ” the figure almost seemed to purr.

Jack was silent before he let out a breathy laugh. “That is not the team I told you to meet up with,” he scolded. “Please tell me you are not holding McCree hostage.”

“No, I am holding the archer hostage to make sure I do not get shot by a certain gunslinger,” the figure chuckled.

McCree’s eyes widened in shock. “You…you’re the agent we’re supposed to pick up?!”

“Do not act so surprised, Jesse,” the figure snorted before he released his grip on Hanzo. “Who else would be able to infiltrate Talon but an old Blackwatch agent?”

“Wha?” McCree blinked.

“If you do not mind,” Hanzo growled as he rubbed at his throat. “We are in the middle of a warzone.”

“Hanzo, McCree, escort our agent back to the shuttle. We’ll meet you there with the payload,” Jack ordered.

“Yessir,” McCree replied. “Come on, darlin’; let’s get moving.”

Hanzo did his best not to snarl at McCree. Thanks to this idiot being his soulmate, he was just held hostage and treated like a meat shield. Now he wanted to throw around that condescending pet name in front of a total stranger? If he could have, he would have shot McCree dead on the spot.

They hurried back the way they came, their spy gliding along behind them in a cloud of smoke. Hanzo leaped the gap and scrambled up the wall of the taller building. He turned around, fully expecting to have to grab McCree again. Instead, he watched in shock as the ghostly figure grabbed McCree and pulled him down into a pool of shadows. They reappeared beside him, McCree looking particularly startled.

“Never do that again,” McCree gulped.

“No time for you to squeamish,” the agent chuckled darkly. “Hurry up, McCree.”

Hanzo started running again, heading for the fire escape they had used to get up to the roof. McCree was growling and grumbling behind him, not paying much attention to the specter floating along in their wake. Hanzo’s feet hit the ground and heard a pulse rifle being powered up behind him.

“Step away from the ladder,” the Talon agent ordered. “And keep your hands where I can see them.”

Hanzo didn’t look up as he put his hands on the back of his head and stepped back. He thought he heard McCree cursing above him, but he didn’t dare look up to confirm. The pulse rifle was pressed between his shoulder blades and he slowly lowered himself to his knees.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to attack someone from behind?” the spectral agent asked sweetly from somewhere behind Hanzo.

He heard a wet squealing noise and the pulse rifle clattered to the ground. Hanzo bolted to his feet and spun around. He wished that he hadn’t. The spectral agent had punched a hole through the Talon agent’s chest and was holding their crushed heart in his hand.

“Dragon’s blood,” Hanzo whispered.

“There will be others nearby,” the agent sighed as he tossed the heart to the ground. “Keep your bow ready to fire. McCree, move your ass. Six years out of work should not leave you this slow, bounty hunter.”

McCree slid down the ladder to the ground and grabbed Hanzo’s shoulders, ignoring the agent. “Are you okay?” he demanded.

“I’m fine,” Hanzo wiggled out of the other man’s grasp. “Pull your gun out, idiot.”

McCree winced at his tone, but did as he was told. They hurried along the street to the abandoned lot that Lena had parked the shuttle in. The spectral agent drifted ahead of them when he spotted the shuttle, groaning in relief as his heavy boots touched down on the ramp. Hanzo slipped up behind him, half-tempted to ram his bow into the back of his head to knock him out.

He took a defensive position inside the shuttle, waiting for the rest of the team to reassemble. Lena’s group were the first to arrive, grinning ear to ear until Lena spotted the agent. Her face twisted in horror and she pointed her guns at the man.

“You!” she shouted accusingly.

“Me,” the agent inclined his head. “Get on the shuttle, Oxton. We don’t have the luxury to beat each other senseless.”

“You work with Talon,” Lena snapped.

“I infiltrated their organization,” the man made a motion of rolling his eyes. “Stop being an idiot and get on the shuttle. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Lena zipped up the ramp and shoved her gun in his face. “Give me one good reason,” she started to growl before the man grabbed her by the throat.

“Jack will have your head,” the man growled. “So put the gun away and prep the shuttle for launch.”

He dropped her to her feet and turned around to help secure the payload as it arrived. Jack, Genji, and Reinhardt looked haggard and tired, but they hauled the payload up into the shuttle without a word. Jack clapped the spectral agent’s shoulder as the ramp started folding.

“Good to see you in one piece,” Jack said.

“Several pieces,” the spectral agent chuckled. “You look as old as ever.”

“Fuck you,” Jack snorted before he stepped around the agent to buckle himself into a seat. “Well done, everyone. We secured the payload and got our agent back.”

“Are you going to tell us who tall, dark, and edgy is?” Lucio asked as he glanced at the agent.

“Edgy?” the agent demanded. “I thought I looked intimidating.”

“Hard to look intimidating with those thighs,” Jack chuckled.

 _“You keep talking like that and you will be sleeping alone, Jack,”_ the agent growled.

Hanzo blinked. He was certain the man had been speaking Spanish. Hanzo did not know Spanish. He spoke French and had the most basic understanding of Portuguese, but didn’t know a lick of Spanish. McCree on the other hand….

He rounded on the man and hissed at him. “Get. Out. Of. My. Head.”

“I didn’t do anything,” McCree lifted his hands innocently. “Scout’s honour.”

“Then how could I understand him?” Hanzo hissed. “I don’t speak Spanish but you do.”

“Soulmates can start picking up the languages the other speaks,” the agent called over his shoulder.

Hanzo winced and looked away from McCree. He shuffled back in his seat, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze as he buckled himself in. He glanced up as Jack told the agent to have a seat and almost burst out laughing as the agent twisted and dropped to sit in Jack’s lap. He might not have been able to see the agent’s face, but the smug aura that wafted off of him spoke volumes as he proceeded to crush Jack into the seat, even going so far as to wiggle on Jack’s lap.

“You bitch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And really, who didn't see this coming? An agent in Talon that is secretly working for Overwatch? Yah, that has Reaper plastered all over it. And can you see the other pairings in here? Some you have to squint at, but I am really, really not subtle at all~


	5. Chapter 5

Hanzo took his seat beside Genji at the briefing table. He would have just leaned against the wall in the far corner of the room, but his brother had proceeded to hop into Reinhardt’s lap and motion for him to sit down. He ignored the proud look on the giant’s face as Genji got comfortable on one massive thigh, looking instead at the spectral agent as he hovered behind Jack.

The base had practically exploded with outrage as soon as the agent; Reaper, apparently; stepped off the shuttle. Anyone that had been part of Overwatch before its downfall had demanded Reaper be stuck in the holding cells, but Jack wasn’t hearing any of it. He personally escorted Reaper out of the hanger, his pulse rifle armed and at the ready. No one had been stupid enough to try to call Jack’s bluff and Reaper was content to follow the aging soldier without trouble.

Now, however, the room seemed to be full of genuine interest. The amount of information Reaper had brought back with him on Talon was staggering, more than enough to disrupt their operations for months and help shut it down. Some people were whispering that it was all a cover-up to get Reaper into their midst, but Hanzo didn’t think so. Reaper could have easily dispatched him and McCree before continuing on to Lena’s group for extraction.

“If everyone would shut their mouths,” Jack growled from the head of the table, “we can begin.”

“Let’s start with who is under that mask,” Torbjörn snapped.

“Can’t let anyone keep their secrets, can you?” Reaper sighed heavily. He moved his claws slowly, clicking the metallic tips together in an almost musical fashion. “Now, I could be petty and tell you to ask Angela who I am, but that would take all the fun out of it. If everyone could put their hands on the table; especially you, cowboy; I would appreciate it. I don’t feel like getting shot.”

There was a murmur of dissent around the table, but it fell silent as Hanzo put his hands on the table. McCree followed his lead, grinning down the length of the table at him. It took a lot to glower at him, but Hanzo managed to do so. He heard someone whisper about them still not making up before Genji and Reinhardt put their hands on the table. Slowly, everyone else fell in line, placing their hands on the table and glaring at Reaper expectantly.

Reaper waited for the last pair of hands to be resting on the table before he reached up and gripped his mask. Hanzo heard the soft click and hiss of an air-tight breathing system release and Reaper removed his mask. He kept his face turned down towards the table, blocking it from view under the edges of his hood. He set the mask down on the table and drew his claws over it for a moment.

Slowly, he reached up and pushed the hood back over his head, letting salt and pepper curls emerge from the fabric. He took a deep breath to steel himself and slowly straightened up. Most of the table let out gasps of shock, some more terrified than others. Hanzo didn’t know where he fell on that scale because the second McCree saw the man’s face, he recognized him and his horror was replaced with anger.

The man’s skin was a mottled mess of healthy brown, dying gray, and leached white. His eyes were blood red and the sclera had turned an unsettling black. There were two prominent scars on the side of his face; McCree didn’t care about all the smaller ones that covered the man’s face and Hanzo ignored them as well. His scruffy goatee was steel gray and looked like it was in desperate need of a trim.

“Gabriel?” Reinhardt demanded as he leaned forward. “What happened to you?”

“Someone needed a guinea pig for their resurrection technology,” Reaper replied. His voice was much smoother with the mask no longer on his face. He tipped his head back and shot a stream of black smoke and ash towards the ceiling, watching it twist away in the air. “Isn’t that right, Dr. Ziegler?”

Angela stiffened in her seat and lifted her chin. “I saved your life, Gabriel,” she said. “There were no….”

“Don’t bullshit me, Angela,” Gabriel snarled. His face contorted and black smoke billowed out of his eyes. “The only reason you were allowed to test your device on me was so that the UN could bring their precious golden boy back from the grave. They knew damn well that he would be useless to them if I were dead, so they allowed you to do as much damage as necessary to me so they could bring back their puppet. How well did that work out in the end?”

Angela trembled in her seat. “I saved Jack’s life,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

A feral smile spread across Gabriel’s face as he reached out to run his gloved hand through Jack’s hair. “Yes, you did,” he said, his voice softening. “And it is the only reason you still draw breath, doctor. Remember that.”

“Are you threatening her, Reyes?” Torbjörn demanded.

“Threats are empty words,” Gabriel shot the engineer a bored look. “I’m simply stating facts. Now, if you’re quite done picking me apart….”

“Where the hell have you been?!” McCree shouted as he rose to his feet. He threw his chair out violently behind him, making Lucio scramble to get out of the way. “Six years, you bastard! I’ve thought you were dead for six years!”

“I was dead,” Gabriel sighed. “I would have happily stayed dead.”

“That can be arranged,” McCree growled as he pulled Peacekeeper out of its holster and pointed it between Gabriel’s eyes.

A sad smile spread across Gabriel’s face and he let out a soft chuckle. “Oh Jesse; if it was that easy, don’t you think I would have offed myself a long time ago?” he asked.

McCree’s hand trembled as he lowered his gun. “I mourned you,” he hissed.

“I know, _m’ijo_ ,” Gabriel sighed. “This wasn’t something I ever wanted to happen.” He shot a glance at Jack. “You get the same treatment when he found out you were alive?”

“Yes; although I got a bloody nose and a black eye,” Jack replied.

“That explains a lot,” Gabriel chuckled before he shot another stream of smoke towards the ceiling. “But enough reminiscing; there’s a lot of information to go over and I’m sure most of you are eager to go relax somewhere that doesn’t have a ghost darkening the mood.”

McCree sat down after he retrieved his chair, eyes on the table and refusing to meet Gabriel or Jack’s gaze. Hanzo felt little for the whole exchange; he had no idea what was going on with anyone and he would much rather keep it that way. It looked and sounded like a convoluted mess and the less he poked at it, the happier he would be.

It took almost two hours to go over everything Gabriel had managed to collect. Hanzo didn’t understand most of it and left all of the processing to those that understood what was happening. As soon as Jack gave the dismissal, everyone got to their feet and stretched.

Hanzo rose and walked off to the side, fully intent on remaining behind to speak with Jack about never putting him in the same team as McCree again before he was cornered by Lena. She grinned up at him, looping her arms behind her back in what he guessed was supposed to be endearing.

“You and McCree worked amazingly together,” she chirped. “I knew you would.”

Hanzo started to incline his head when McCree’s metal arm looped around his waist. He was hauled up against McCree’s side, the bumbling oaf ignoring the warning growl Hanzo gave him. So much for ‘don’t touch him’. Did anyone even understand the concept of personal space in this organization?

“I agree; we make a terrific pair,” McCree grinned down at him.

“We make a…tolerable alliance on the battlefield,” Hanzo allowed.

Three seconds. That was all he would give before he started digging his fingers into the connective wires in McCree’s arm. Any longer than that and the oaf was asking for it.

“You say the sweetest things,” McCree cooed.

He tipped Hanzo’s chin back and before Hanzo could protest, he kissed him full on the mouth. A loud “aww” rang through the room and he saw the flash of several cameras as pictures were taken. Humiliation wash over him and heat bloomed across his face as McCree tried to deepen the kiss. Hanzo curled his left hand into a fist and punched McCree hard below his eye. He dropped to the ground with a soft yelp of pain and Hanzo bolted from the room.

* * *

 

Gabriel looked at the ceiling and clapped his hands slowly. “Well done, Jesse,” he praised sarcastically. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone bolt from a room that fast. You must be so proud of yourself.”

McCree sat up slowly, rubbing at the bruise blooming under his right eye. He looked confused and hurt, glancing around at the faces that looked absolutely stunned by what Hanzo had done. Gabriel did his best not to roll his eyes at everyone’s stupidity. He forgot how fucking dense they all were.

“I’ll find Hanzo,” Gabriel murmured to Jack. “You deal with our idiot pup.”

“I thought they were getting better,” Jack grumbled.

Gabriel shot his soulmate a sad smile before he entered his wraith form and left the room. He didn’t have to look hard to find Hanzo; he went to the same sort of place Gabriel used to go to put distance between himself and Jack when they first met and had their words burned into them. Jack and McCree wouldn’t have been able to reach the roof without some really fancy footwork; a ninja assassin and a ghost had no such problems.

“You have a nice left hook,” Gabriel praised as he materialized on the roof in front of where Hanzo was slumped. “McCree will be feeling that for a few days.”

“Are you here to tell me to be nicer to him?” Hanzo snapped. “Because I have heard enough of that for the rest of my life.”

“No,” Gabriel shook his head. “I’m not here to lecture. It would be hypocritical of me to do so.”

Hanzo shot him a confused look before he shook his head. “What?”

Gabriel tilted his head to the side before he let out a breath of dead cells. “ _And when the fool wrapped his hands around my waist, he closed his eyes for the kiss that would seal our bond. I left a crimson smile across his throat instead_ ,” he recited.

Hanzo jumped in surprise and looked at him in awe. “You know that story?” he whispered.

“You and I likely lived very similar lives in our youth,” Gabriel chuckled. “I clung to the tales held in _The Anthology for the Lost Souls_. It was like they were the only ones that understood what I was feeling.”

“I stole my copy from the library,” Hanzo grinned cheekily. “It wasn’t supposed to be removed; sensitive subject material and such bullshit.” His grin fell a little. “How old were you when the words appeared?”

“Fourteen,” Gabriel sighed as he sat down beside Hanzo. “You’d think I won the Olympics the way my family carried on about it. They were so happy that their little baby’s words had finally appeared that they didn’t seem to notice how much I hated them.”

“I was ten,” Hanzo murmured. “My mother threw a party to celebrate and I was forced to endure everyone patting me on the back and telling me how happy they were for me.” He rested his head on his knees and sighed heavily. “Congratulated for being dragged into a life of imprisonment with no hope in hell of ever getting out.”

Gabriel chuckled. “Never looked at it like that before,” he mused.

“How did you view it…before Jack?” Hanzo asked quietly.

Gabriel linked his fingers together and rested his nose against them with his elbows braced on his knees. “Willing acceptance of abuse,” he replied. “Grew up in a rough neighbourhood; not the worst out in LA, but it wasn’t exactly easy. Every other kid’s parents were at each other’s throats and everyone knew it. They’d tell us stories about how great soulmates were while quietly plotting where to beat their mate so the bruises wouldn’t show. We all knew it was happening; we weren’t stupid. So when it turned out that I was the only one that didn’t want a soulmate, I was shocked.”

Hanzo let out a soft snort. “They all thought that their soulmate would be different, that it would be like the stories they heard as children,” he said.

“Exactly,” Gabriel shook his head.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, watching the sun sink lower on the horizon. Hanzo seemed calmer than he had since Gabriel met him, content and almost wistful. The tension was still under his skin, likely dreading the encounter he would have with McCree when he ventured down to their room.

“What changed for you and Jack?” Hanzo asked quietly.

Gabriel shifted and tipped his head back to watch the clouds drift by. He exhaled another cloud of black smoke and smiled.

“I stopped blaming him for the circumstances and decided to be his friend,” he said. “It snowballed from there.”

“And it worked immediately?” Hanzo asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Fuck no,” Gabriel laughed. “Jack was pissed that I didn’t want to be his lover. He actually stopped talking to me for two days because of it. Nothing funnier than the golden boy of the barracks giving his soulmate the cold shoulder because he didn’t want to fuck.”

“Did he tell people that was why he wasn’t talking to you?” Hanzo balked.

“No; he’s not that dumb,” Gabriel shook his head. “He forgave me after the second day and apologized. He realized that being my friend was better than me trying to kill him in his sleep.” Hanzo chuckled and Gabriel got to his feet. “Just because McCree’s your soulmate doesn’t mean you have to be lovers or husbands. Friends are just as important and anyone that tells you otherwise is out of their minds.”

Hanzo nodded slowly. “I…thank you,” he murmured.

“Helps hearing advice from someone that shared a similar opinion to you,” Gabriel agreed. “And Hanzo, don’t treat McCree like shit. He didn’t ask for this any more than you did. It’s not fair to take your anger out on him.”

Hanzo winced and looked at his feet. “I will try to remember that,” he murmured.

“I know you will,” Gabriel smiled reassuringly at him. “Set your boundaries and make him respect them. He’s a knucklehead, but he learns fast.”

Hanzo nodded once more and Gabriel returned to his wraith form, slipping down into the venting to go find where the pup had gone to sulk. He wasn’t surprised to find him in the medical bay moping over a cup of coffee with Angela and Jack. He rolled his non-corporeal eyes and landed quietly beside Jack. He flopped into his mate’s lap, wiggling down just to bother his mate and make him squawk in discomfort.

“Are you moping, Jesse?” Gabriel asked as he swung his legs over the arm of Jack’s chair and stretched himself out.

“I’m not moping!” McCree glared at him. “Hanzo punched me!”

“You kissed him in a room full of people,” Gabriel snorted. “He’s proven time and time again that he’s not comfortable being your soulmate and you stamped over any small amount of trust he had with that stunt.”

McCree had the presence of mind to wince. “I didn’t mean to embarrass him,” he murmured.

“You didn’t think, _m’ijo_ ,” Gabriel sighed. “Not that she’s helping.”

He waved a hand at Angela and was happy to see her bristle. Yes, fuck you, you self-righteous bitch. Bristle all you want; it’ll just make him that much more of an asshole.

“Excuse me?” Angela demanded. “Whatever your feelings towards me, Gabriel, that should not factor into this.”

“Angela, have you encouraged McCree to calm down and give Hanzo space or have you told him to keep pushing until Hanzo cracks?” Gabriel asked.

“They’re soulmates!” Angela glared at him.

“And?” Gabriel asked. He shifted on Jack’s lap and lifted an eyebrow at him. “How long was it before I even accepted you as my mate?”

“Two years before you even let me kiss you,” Jack shook his head.

McCree paled. “Two years?” he squeaked.

“It’s called patience,” Gabriel shrugged his shoulders.

“And a stubborn mate,” Jack chuckled.

“Very stubborn,” Gabriel agreed.

“Extremely stubborn,” Jack purred.

“And you wouldn’t have me any other way,” Gabriel grinned as he twisted on Jack’s lap to kiss over the scar running through his lip. They rubbed their noses against each other, pulsing love back and forth through their bond. “The best thing you can do, McCree, is find out where Hanzo’s comfort zones are and don’t try to step outside them. There’s nothing wrong with being soulmates and being nothing more than best friends.”

“But,” McCree started to whimper before Angela cut him off.

“Gabriel, why are being like this?” she demanded. “Aren’t you happy with your soulmate? Why would you encourage Hanzo’s behaviour?”

“I am not encouraging Hanzo’s behaviour; it is getting out of hand, but if McCree wants to play soulmates, he needs to take the role seriously,” Gabriel said. “It isn’t sunshine and roses like the stories we have shoved down our throats as children. It’s messy and ugly and sometimes you end up with a nightmare of a soulmate because their demons are eating away at them. You don’t get to choose and there is no second option.” He looked at McCree and McCree stared into his coffee. “You need to accept that Hanzo may never love you the way you love him. It hurts, I know, but that’s the reality of the situation, Jesse. Swallow your fool’s pride and accept him as he is.”

“You’d be surprised what that one gesture can do,” Jack added.

McCree shifted in his seat. “Okay,” he murmured.

Gabriel smiled as he got to his feet. He walked over to McCree and tipped his chin up. He pressed a kiss against McCree’s forehead and pulled away to look him in the eye.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he promised.

McCree closed his eyes and nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Hanzo finds common ground with Gabriel. Bet you weren't expecting Mr. Dramatic to have the same opinion on soulmates as our resident drama queen. Yes, Gabriel didn't want a soulmate. Yes, he hated Jack for the first few months that they were forced together. Yes, he eventually grew to love his dumbass soulmate. Will that be the same for Hanzo and McCree? You'll have to stick around to find out~


	6. Chapter 6

McCree took a deep breath before he stepped into his room. Hanzo was sitting on the bed, his eyes closed as if he were meditating. He closed the door behind him, locking it quietly to give them some privacy.

“Hanzo?” he called. “Can we talk?”

One of Hanzo’s beautiful brown eyes cracked open. “I was planning on it,” he said carefully. “That bruise is not flattering.”

“Sort of deserve it,” McCree rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, about that. The kiss? I kind of got caught in the moment and…well, I had hoped that things had gotten better after the mission.”

“They did not,” Hanzo shook his head.

“Yah, yah I get that,” he nodded. “It okay if I sit down next to you?”

Hanzo nodded and scooted over on the bed, giving McCree space to choose where he wanted to sit. He sat down on Hanzo’s right, brushing his metal fingers against Hanzo’s wrist. Hanzo did not pull away, but McCree didn’t push. He took a deep breath, pulled his hat off, and set it down on the nightstand.

“Hanzo,” he pushed his hand through his hair, “I’m gunna level with ya; I spent my whole life dreaming about what being with you would be like. I know that you think it’s bullshit, but to me it was the greatest thrill. I used to imagine what your face looked like, what your voice sounded like, if you would laugh at my jokes or groan in annoyance while shooting me a loving smile. It dominated my world and when I saw those words burning on your arm, I thought I was the luckiest man alive.”

“And then I tried to kill you,” Hanzo said almost fondly.

“And then you tried to kill me,” he agreed. “I don’t know why but….”

“I saw soulmates as a form of imprisonment,” Hanzo said, his voice soft. “From the time I was small, I did not see the wonder the other children did. I heard the stories about the words of another appearing on your skin and how your soulmate saying them would bind the two of you together forever and I grew scared. All I knew was a life of duties and obligations with no exit available to me. A soulmate was just another way to bind me to the service of another.”

He shook his head slowly. “No one else held this opinion and I grew sullen and melancholic at a young age,” he continued. “My words appeared when I was ten. I cried that night, begging the dragons to eat me so that I never had to suffer at the hands of my soulmate the same way I suffered at the hands of my clan elders.” He closed his eyes and breathed in heavily through his teeth.

“At fourteen, I clawed my arm open,” he whispered. McCree’s eyes widened and he stared at Hanzo. “I wanted the words off. I had not had a moment’s peace since they had appeared. I had heard of others around the village; children around my age; that had their words vanish. Everyone said that it was because their soulmate had died. I thought, in my addled and desperate state, that if I could tear the words from my arm, rip them out of my flesh, then I would be free.”

Hanzo lifted his left arm to show off the beautiful dragon tattoo and the words that still burned brilliant red. McCree reached out, gently running his fingers over Hanzo’s arm. Hanzo pressed into his side, taking comfort from the contact for the first time since the night of the storm.

“I tore most of the flesh on my arm to ribbons and I excitedly raced off to show my father. I remember saying ‘look, the words are gone’ before the household exploded into chaos. I was rushed to a hospital and my mutilated arm was stitched back together. The scars were ugly, but even uglier to me were the words that reappeared when the flesh had mended,” Hanzo pressed his head against McCree’s chest.

McCree chewed on his lip before he gently kissed Hanzo’s cheek. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

Hanzo shook his head. “It is not your fault, Jesse McCree,” he whispered. “I was wrong to take my anger out on you. You did not chose this anymore than I did.”

McCree hugged Hanzo close, running his hand over the strong back and the muscles that rippled beneath his flesh. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and started talking.

“My ma died when I was young; childbirth,” he murmured. “Baby brother tore something on the way out and they couldn’t get the bleeding to stop. He didn’t make it either; stillborn. Pa was never the same after that. Took to alcohol; never got violent, thank Christ, but he’d forget I was there most of the time. Spent a lot of nights holed up in bed hungry, wishing for my Ma to come back and make everything right.

“When my words showed up, I was happier than a pig in shit,” he chuckled. “I remember showing everyone the words even though none of us knew what they said. Didn’t know what language it was or where to even start looking; I was the only one who’s words weren’t in English or Spanish. Everyone speculated on what my soulmate was; boy or girl, tall or short, that sort of innocent kid stuff. As I got older, thinking of you was the only thing that kept me sane.

“I left home at fifteen and got myself in good with the Deadlock Gang. I was a crackshot and a smooth talker and I listened to orders when they were given. I was also ruthless and it got me places fast. Didn’t show my words to anyone; figured out by that point that it was none of their fucking business what was written on my body. Ran with them for two years before Overwatch came in and busted everything. Would have been thrown in the slammer for the rest of my life if Gabriel hadn’t offered me a deal.

“Wasn’t perfect at first. I had a lot of anger built up in me and Gabe wouldn’t have any of it. I thought he was an idiot, especially with Jack as his soulmate. I insulted Jack more times than I can count, trying to goad the Strike Commander into attacking me. Jack never did. Not even when I hauled off and punched him. Broke his nose too; there was blood everywhere.

“That was when I learned something important; you don’t fuck with someone’s soulmate. Gabriel tried to kill me; I’ll never forget that day. He had this wild look in his eyes, like his big brown eyes didn’t belong to a human but to some predator. The only thing that kept him from tearing me to pieces was Jack.”

“How?” Hanzo asked softly.

“Jack wouldn’t let Gabriel near me. Blood was still pouring down his face, but he wouldn’t budge from in front of me. Gabriel kept snarling and pacing, but Jack just stood there with his arms out, keeping me pushed into a corner while he tried to talk Gabriel down. Even after I hit him and broke his nose, Jack wasn’t about to give up on me.

“My relationship with them changed after that. I stopped being a spoiled brat and actually started listening to Gabriel. I stopped badgering Jack for no reason. Everything started to turn around and I developed a family. A really, really weird family with way too many parents, but a family regardless.

“I showed Jack my words when I felt brave enough and he told me that he thought the words were Japanese. He couldn’t tell me what they said, but it was a start in the right direction.”

“And then you found out that the words wound summon dragons to tear you apart,” Hanzo sighed. “Whatever deity decided on our words had a sick sense of humor.”

“Yah,” McCree chuckled before he gently pushed Hanzo up to look him in the eye. “I love you, Hanzo Shimada. I will always love you. No matter what happens, that will never change.”

Hanzo’s brown eyes softened and McCree saw tears forming behind his long, dark lashes. “Jesse,” he whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I need more time. I…I can’t say that I will be able to love you the way that you love me. I don’t know if I will ever be able to love anyone that way. But I am willing to try. I just need time.”

“We got all the time in the world, Hanzo,” McCree chuckled before he leaned in close and gave his soulmate a chaste kiss on the lips. “I won’t rush you, promise. And I’ll keep my hands to myself in public.”

“I appreciate that,” Hanzo smiled before he kissed McCree’s cheek. “Thank you. You are a better man than I deserve.”

“No,” McCree shook his head as he ran a hand lovingly over the words on Hanzo’s arm. “No, I think I’m just the kinda man you need.”

“Charmer,” Hanzo smirked before he slipped out of his embrace to change out of his clothing.

“Been told it’s my best feature,” McCree laughed as he stood up to follow Hanzo’s example.

“They clearly have not seen your eyes when you laugh,” Hanzo said with a shrug.

McCree paused and looked at Hanzo in shock. His soulmate didn’t pause as he pulled his pajamas on, smoothing the simple white tee over his boxer shorts. He did feel a quick pulse of affection through their bond before Hanzo climbed into bed and settled down with his back to the wall. McCree pulled his pajama pants on and crawled into bed.

If he was happy when he woke up in the morning with Hanzo’s head resting on his shoulder, he didn’t say anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they finally sit down and talk like adults. Now, I know most of you are throwing your hands in the air and screeching "THAT'S IT?!" but let me explain.
> 
> I could not in good faith to how I wrote Hanzo in this story, go any further. What I had planned for a longer fic actually felt like a betrayal to Hanzo's character as it would have forced him to treat McCree a different way. This ending, however, leaves it up to the reader to decide what happens. 
> 
> Does Hanzo eventually fall in love with Jesse? Or do they stay really good friends? That's up to the reader to decide what happens. All that I can write is that they're going to take things nice and slow and actually pay attention to how the other feels. And really, that's not a bad way to end the story.
> 
> Again, thank you all so much for reading and commenting, leaving kudos, and bookmarks. I love reading the feedback and the reactions and I'm so happy about the positive reactions I've seen.


End file.
